The Wiggles are good. Very good. They are superb children's entertainers and creative songwriters. Their music tends to "switch on" the musical part of kids' brains and it encourages them to grow and develop musically.
Sonny-Ma-Jiminy loves The Wiggles. I often find him singing a Wiggles song, strumming his guitar like Murray, singing the words like Greg and performing the actions like a besotted Wiggly Groupie. He frequently falls asleep like Jeff, stopping all activity as he feigns narcolepsy with his eyeballs rolling back in his head (which has frightened Grandma on more than one occasion.) He begins to snore gently as he waits to be "woken up" when he jumps up and down flapping his arms and tweeting like a bird (yeah, what's with that, Jeff?)
Like most children his age I suspect, he thinks that his mother would love nothing more than to fill her own day with a constant Wiggly Role-Play. But the average mother has many calls on her time, and the pressure to multi-task the housework with the Wiggly Role-Play is immense. To my disappointment, this area has been nothing but a debilitating domestic limitation.
I simply cannot simultaneously hang out the washing while pointing my fingers and doing the twist.
Neither can I peel potatoes while standing on one leg and shaking my hands.
And I can't keep my cool while being wrenched from what was a peaceful sleep with the dreaded words,
"One ... two ... three ... WAKE UP MUMMY!!!"
My only hope is that Chubbity Bubbity will grow into another little Wiggly Groupie and be satisfied following her brother's constant requests to "be Dorothy" or to "stand up and dance" or to "play her guitar like Murray."
Until then, I'll have to bear it graciously.
And just for today, I might put on The Hooley Dooleys instead.
Sonny-Ma-Jiminy loves The Wiggles. I often find him singing a Wiggles song, strumming his guitar like Murray, singing the words like Greg and performing the actions like a besotted Wiggly Groupie. He frequently falls asleep like Jeff, stopping all activity as he feigns narcolepsy with his eyeballs rolling back in his head (which has frightened Grandma on more than one occasion.) He begins to snore gently as he waits to be "woken up" when he jumps up and down flapping his arms and tweeting like a bird (yeah, what's with that, Jeff?)
Like most children his age I suspect, he thinks that his mother would love nothing more than to fill her own day with a constant Wiggly Role-Play. But the average mother has many calls on her time, and the pressure to multi-task the housework with the Wiggly Role-Play is immense. To my disappointment, this area has been nothing but a debilitating domestic limitation.
I simply cannot simultaneously hang out the washing while pointing my fingers and doing the twist.
Neither can I peel potatoes while standing on one leg and shaking my hands.
And I can't keep my cool while being wrenched from what was a peaceful sleep with the dreaded words,
"One ... two ... three ... WAKE UP MUMMY!!!"
My only hope is that Chubbity Bubbity will grow into another little Wiggly Groupie and be satisfied following her brother's constant requests to "be Dorothy" or to "stand up and dance" or to "play her guitar like Murray."
Until then, I'll have to bear it graciously.
And just for today, I might put on The Hooley Dooleys instead.
2 comments:
Happily, my little'uns are just big enough to play together, which does save me a bit of effort, but they do things like happily smack each other's bottoms in the bath and share a bowl of sugar.
Nice, but...
(The bowl of sugar sharing is separate to the bath smacking.)
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